It's that time of year. I didn't get to bring many copies of my books for two reasons: we had limited space as we were down to one table, and I was still in the cast on a crutch, so carrying a lot of books was out of the question. I did pretty well. Sold out of the HST anthologies I'm in as well as And Jesus Came Back and Strip, and I almost sold all the copies of Eye Cutter I brought with me. Same for Tales of Unspeakable Taste. My new one, Mail Order Bride, didn't do so well, but I've talked to a few people who have read it, and they really, really love it. My comics guy's brother read it, so he's putting it on sale at his shop.
With two exceptions, I'm going to offer the same Printers Row deal we had last weekend. One for $15 or 3 for $40. If I can physically put these books in your hand, there's no shipping. Otherwise, I'll have to add $8 to the order. This is what I have available, and I'll get to those two exceptions last. (And Ben, if you're reading this, I'm holding on to my last copy of Strip for you. DM me, and I'll waive the shipping cost.)
John Bruni is a unique visionary, granting us entrance into a world that could exist just as easily decades from now as it could a week from tomorrow. The future he crafts for us in POOR BASTARDS AND RICH FUCKS is both surreal and surreptitiously familiar. His is a world where, regardless of how society advances, the human condition renders characters placated by apathy and disillusionment or excess and hedonism. POOR BASTARDS AND RICH FUCKS is your life, tangentially explored to ease your unease . . . but only a little. After all, it wouldn't be fun if you didn't squirm a little, would it? Kirk Jones, author of JOURNEY TO ABORTOSPHERE & UNCLE SAM'S CARNIVAL OF COPULATING INANIMALS It is the year 2200. Richard Coppergate and the wealthiest citizens of the city, have gathered for their annual game: kidnap seven people the world wouldn't miss--bums, prostitutes and the mentally ill--and turn them loose in the city with a mission to hunt and kill each other. The prize? One billion dollars. This year the stakes are personal. Two of the contestants are sons of the rich fucks. One of the contestants is a ringer. And one of the rich fucks likes hunting the contestants. Coppergate and his game have come to the attention of a revolutionary who lives off the grid and an outlaw journalist intent on bringing the whole thing crashing down. John Bruni, the author of TALES OF QUESTIONABLE TASTE, brings you POOR BASTARDS AND RICH FUCKS, the ultimate tale of the class struggle. Who will win? Who will die? Who are YOU going to place your bets on?
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Mickey Scarlet is a man who, as a child, had a beast beaten into him by his father. As an adult he uses this beast to help him survive as a cop and later as an ex-convict, but that’s not easy when Lucifer Robinson offers to keep him on retainer for any number of illegal acts he needs performed. Mickey has no idea who is really in charge of this enterprise, but he finds himself lost in a phantasmagorical world filled with monsters and lowlifes while all he wants to do is find his estranged wife so he can finally meet his child.
John Bruni, author of POOR BASTARDS AND RICH FUCKS and DONG OF FRANKENSTEIN, brings us a horrifying tale about cycles of abuse and the horrors it creates.
Brian Keene, author of PRESSURE and THE RISING, says about John Bruni, “Stylistically, he’s a blend of Edward Lee and Jeremy Robert Johnson.”
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For fans of the deranged, the utterly weird, and most certainly the unspeakable... Bizarro Pulp Press brings you a buffet of curdled imagination and warped creativity of John Bruni. 21 stories ranging from monstrous genitalia and violent retirees, GG Allin, and Jesus Christ.
Brian Keene, author of The Rising, says, "Stylistically, he's a blend of Edward Lee and Jeremy Robert Johnson."
You've been warned.
You think you know the Lewis and Clark expedition, but you don't. Hi Ziege is a man who thought he was wasting his life until he discovered that he could do so much more by joining the Discovery Corps from such a nameless place as La Charrette. Everything that Lewis and Clark and all the others left out of their journals is recorded here, including their experiences with aliens and bigfoot (bigfeet?). "Stylistically, he's a blend of Edward Lee and Jeremy Robert Johnson." -Brian Keene, author of The Rising and The Seven "John Bruni has combined historical and hysterical into a bizarro-themed redneck autobiography for the age of the absurd. A gory, nasty, wild bout of fun we didn't know we needed, until the blood and moonshine spilled from the pages in front of us and congealed into one hell of a cocktail." -Michael Allen Rose, author of Boiled Americans
William King is a Missouri guerilla turned bank robber trying to find a peaceful life on a Texas ranch. Eagle Talon is a Comanche warrior swearing vengeance on those who killed his sons. Juan Moreno is a bandit headed home to Mexico with visions of a hero's welcome. Corbin Mathers is a former slave and a walking dead man searching for the outlaw who killed him and his son. These four men will collide in an orgy of blood and gore and violence, and none of them will escape unscathed.
John Bruni, author of The Life and Times of Hieronymus Aloysis Ziege and Tales of Unspeakable Taste, brings you a cross between The Outlaw Josey Wales and The Searchers by way of Steinbeck and Fulci. This is no mere splatter western. This is Trail of Blood.
Layne Gates has done it all. Murder, cannibalism, sadism, you name it. His most recent racket: kidnap or purchase young women known as oracles so he can cut their eyes out, thus intensifying their gifts. He then uses them to extort money out of people who will suffer some misfortune by offering a way to avoid it. The only problem is, one of his oracles has discorporated and is now a part of his ship, the Mammon.
Meet Corbin Marsters, a former slave and gladiator who now buys slaves to set them free. He offers them a job hunting the scum of the universe on his ship, the Aurelius. Ketchum is his new shipmate, and their target: Layne Gates.
Tessa Reeves is sent west by her pimp as a mail order bride to a goofy loser of a farmer. He sells her to a Comanche flesh merchant named Iron Trail, who teaches her how to survive in the wilderness. It's only the beginning of the horrors she faces as she tries to stay alive long enough to wreak vengeance on her tormentors.
John Bruni, author of Eye Cutter returns to the world of Trail of Blood to tell a tale of horror and woe, gore and depravity, devastation and revenge.
OK, now for the two exceptions:
Having twice dealt with fear and loathing on the Hunter S. Thompson highway into the savage heart of gonzo dreams, John Bruni, Kevin Candela & Kent Hill (together this time with Neil Sanzari) head down to the old haunts and watering holes of the dirty old man, the drinker, the writer, the fighter, the lover . . . the one and only Charles Bukowski. In a quartet of tribute tales from these authors that both idolize, and have recently encountered Hank's works, the voice of the poet laureate of the gutter is restored, so that once more the good duker . . . can take a swing.
I'm willing to let this go for $7, no shipping. I've carted this book around for the last two years, and no one wants to buy it. I don't get it. I personally love this book, and it was a great deal of fun introducing Buk to Rod Serling, not from The Twilight Zone, but from Night Gallery. But I'm starting to think that people either don't know who Bukowski was, or they just don't care about him. I'll sweeten the deal: I'll throw in a signed manuscript of an unpublished story if you'll take it off my hands.
Tom Miller is a man unsatisfied with his marriage. He fantasizes about his secretary, wishing for there to be something more between them. Becky Rashida is a woman who has just been dumped by her boyfriend before a very important moment in her life. Reggie Bastion is an angry incel who wants sex slaves and in particular wants to fuck his HR rep. Col. David Morgan is a closeted gay man who yearns for his assistant, Corp. Thomas Pedersen. These people are all going to get their wishes, but they are not going to like it. For today is September 11, 2001, and they all work either at the Twin Towers or the Pentagon. And the planes are on their way . . .
I'm friends with Rosemynd Kant. She's pretty ballsy, especially considering the title of her next work, which I am absolutely not going to sell if she actually goes through with it. Long story short, this is 9/11 porn. She sent me a bunch of copies to sell at the shows I go to, and I'm down to the final copy. It's signed. But I've been down to this last copy for about three or four years. No one wants it. It's a pretty funny book, and it's not making fun of the victims of the terrorist attack. But understandably, not many people are willing to go that far with her thought process on this. If you want it, you can have it for $5, no shipping. Or hell, if you want the Bukowski anthology, I'll throw this in for free, but you don't have to take it, as it's a touchy subject. Rosie knows she's insane, and she leans into it pretty intensely.
OK, that's the spiel. If you want something, let me know. The prices will be good for the rest of the month. Contact me however you know me, or if you're new to my work, please leave a note in the comments.
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